Full circle
by blackandwhity
Summary: Tony finds her, again. She welcomes him with a gun, again. In the end, being a whole again is the only thing that matters.


A/N The preview of the scene in the olive orchard gave me too many feels, and this is the result. In this little scene, Tony finds Ziva, and here are their first reactions.  
Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS, of course. Therefore, I have power only on my fantasy (actually I don't, my feels do). 

* * *

For the third time in a few months, the door opens and he is welcomed by her gun pointing at him.  
The next thing he sees, when she lowers it, is her expression, which is a weird mix of surprise, relief, and that bit of tension that has never really left her features in the past few months.  
He turns around to close the door, so she has the time to regain some composure.

"You should really knock, you know" she says, still high on adrenaline.

"I did."

"Then use a less common knocking pattern!" she hisses.

Her expression softens immediately though, and she puts the gun on the shelf by the door. He notices that her hand is slightly shaking, and his concern grows, because he doesn't remember ever seeing her hands not perfectly steady, especially when holding a gun.

They just look at each other for a few moments, both at a loss of what to say. Perhaps there's just too much to say after two difficult months apart, and nothing feels good enough a start.

Been there, done that, he thinks. She leaves, sometimes she disappears, and he finds her. They do it over and over again, and it feels like there's no way to break this pattern.

Her words from the past float in the air as they both think about it.  
_Out of everyone in the world who could have found me, it had to be you.  
Why are you here?  
You did not have to come.  
_  
She says none of these things this time, she says nothing at all. Maybe, this time, she's just accepting his presence. Or maybe she run out of words, because she's exhausted. They played this scene too many times already.

He tries to get them out of the impasse by stroking her arm lightly. She mirrors him putting her hand on his wrist, so he moves closer to her and surrounds her with his arms. She goes into the embrace willingly, and he feels her exhale and let go some of the tension.  
They hold each other so tightly that they can feel the other's heart beating furiously against their chests.

His warm breath on her ear sends pleasant chills down her spine, and it takes her a moment to realize that he's actually talking.

"I was worried sick."

"I know" she whispers, feeling a pang of guilt.

He pulls away just enough to look her in the eyes, but keeps his hands on her upper arms.

"You gotta stop disappearing on me, Ziva. 'Cause it's fucking _scary_. And it's not like I can, you know, get used to it and be mentally prepared the next time, that's not how it works. It gets _worse_ every time, and I can't do it anymore." His expression shifts from stern to sad when he adds "So please, _please_, stop it."

Guilt hits her harder, even if she knows, and she's sure he knows it too, that she's not responsible for the current events.

"I should have called" she admits eventually.

"Yeah, you should have." He answers bitterly.

"But if you are here, you must also know why we ended up in this place. I knew I was being targeted, Tony. And you know how compromising a phone call can be in this kind of situation. I just did not want to put any of you in danger."

"Well, you're right, in theory." He tries hard to keep the bitterness out of his tone, but without much success.

"In theory?" She asks, defensively.

"They found us anyway. My apartment got shot with assault rifles."

She feels like the air got suck out of her lungs. She sees Vance's house riddled with bullet-holes, she hears the sound of the shots, she remembers the wave of adrenaline taking over her as she chased the shooter. The lifeless body of her father against the doorframe, among the shards of glass, and the blood, _the blood_, flash through her mind, and each flash feels like a stab through her gut.

He doesn't need to see the violent shudder that shakes her body to know where her thoughts are drifting, and immediately regrets telling her.

"Hey."

His typical call, uttered in the softest tone, brings her back to present reality.

"It's okay. I'm here all in one piece, as you can see." He smiles.

"The others?"

"Also okay."

She simply nods and a small crooked smile appears on her lips. He knows her face too well not to recognize the dimple under her lower lip as a sign that she's trying hard not to cry, so he lets his hand slide down her arm to meet her hand and squeeze it reassuringly.  
The smile grows larger and the dimple fades slowly away as she interlocks their fingers.

While they finally move away from the entrance, still holding hands, she sends a silent thanks to God. He's safe, he's there with her, and that's the only thing that matters.  
Just for now, she allows herself to forget the rest. 

* * *

_Feedback is always very much appreciated. Thank you for reading and stay strong!_


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